


Ease the Pain

by copper_wasp



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Chris Puts Those Big Arms To Good Use, Declarations Of Love, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, French Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Making Love, Nightmares, Overflowing With Fluff, Reader-Insert, SO MUCH FLUFF, injured reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copper_wasp/pseuds/copper_wasp
Summary: “Captain Redfield, please.... I don’t know where anyone is. Please, if you’re there, I need...help....”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh I am the actual worst at summaries.
> 
>  
> 
> Also posted on [tumblr](https://copper-wasp.tumblr.com/post/184651686815/ease-the-pain-chris-redfield-x-reader).

“Captain...” you said weakly into your radio, having finally been able to push yourself up against a wall at the end of the hallway.

You tried not to look at the right side of your body, but the smell of burnt flesh reached your nostrils. You couldn’t see the extent of the damage, but it wasn’t good. The worst pain was in your right leg, a white hot agony radiating up to your hip. Blood dripped freely from a cut above your eyebrow, and with a monumental effort, you wiped it away with a gloved hand. You knew you had a concussion, too, blacking out for a moment as your head slammed into the ground after the explosion.

“Captain, are you there?” you tried again, voice breaking, unbuckling the chin strap of your helmet. You were going to die anyway, may as well just be rid of it and let your head cool down.

“Captain Redfield, please...” you rasped out, “I don’t know where anyone is. Please, if you’re there, I need...help....”

You were fading fast, and you tried to blink away the blurriness creeping into the edges of your vision. You could hear the shuffling, uneven footsteps, the growls and groans over the sound of the flames. Even after you shot the propane tank to take out a clean dozen of them, there were still more. There was always more.

Harnessing your last ounce of strength, you loaded another clip into your M4. At least you could die taking down as many of those undead fucks as you could.

Once the first one turned the corner, you unloaded, it taking far more bullets than you could spare to down it. You felt blindly at your vest, panic truly setting in when you realized you had no grenades left, and no more ammo for your assault rifle. Fifteen or so bullets left, that was it. You were forced to waste the remaining ammunition on the next two, a sob forcing its way out of your chest when the click of an empty magazine sounded from your gun.

“Fuck,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You discarded the M4, the weapon thumping loudly on the concrete floor. They were coming for you, eyes fogged over and teeth snapping. You swallowed hard, pulling your sidearm from its holster. Seventeen 9mm rounds. Seventeen bullets to save your life. Or just one to take it instead. _No,_ you thought, _I’m not giving up that easy._

Taking aim, you tried to concentrate, gripping the frame tightly, but your hands were shaking too much. Holding your breath, you started to apply pressure to the trigger, but the zombie’s head exploded before you could fire. Shaking your head to try to clear your vision, you heard yelling and cursing as the rest of the horde was mowed down, the sweet song of rapid gunfire meeting your ears.

Your eyelids were so, so heavy, and you felt your arms drop back to your sides, your Beretta clunking to the ground. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you felt a pair of hands cup your face, and warm breath on your cheek.

“Stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be fine, but I need you to stay awake,” a voice said, soft and gentle in your ear.

“I... I can’t....” you replied, as the hands moved to your shoulders. “I’m so tired....”

You were breathing hard, but it felt like your lungs were being squeezed, not able to fill them to capacity. Your heart was racing, your skin covered in a cold sweat.

“Shit, she’s going into shock, we need to move her now,” the voice said, his fingers pressing against the pulse point on your neck. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay? You’re safe now, [Y/N], I’ll protect you,” he said, and you felt strong arms wrap around your back and under your knees, lifting you effortlessly. Intense pain shot up your side and you cried out, tears freely flowing from your eyes.

“Captain, everything’s clear. They’re waiting for transport,” you heard another voice say, your vision rapidly darkening.

“Stay with me, [Y/N],” the first voice said again. You vaguely felt your body moving, cradled gently against a broad chest, before your vision faded out completely, blissful unconsciousness overcoming you.

 

* * *

 

You woke with a start, laying on your back in a room reeking of sanitizer. Letting your eyes focus for a moment, you glanced around, tired brain putting together that you were in a hospital, machines beeping rhythmically around you. Your arms were decorated with an IV and half a dozen sensors, and many purpling bruises. You rubbed at your eyes, hearing a little snore somewhere to your left. Shifting your gaze, your eyes landed on Captain Redfield, fast asleep in a very uncomfortable-looking chair, his head resting precariously on one hand. He was still in his uniform, covered in blood and dirt and viscera, but it looked like he was at least able to wash his hands and face.

“Captain,” you said weakly, clearing your throat. “Captain!” Chris shifted a little, but remained asleep. “Captain Redfield!” you tried again, with as much force as you could muster, which wasn’t much. His head fell off of his hand and he jerked awake, blinking hard a few times before landing his gaze on you.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said, immediately scooting the chair over to the edge of your bed. “It’s about time, you only slept for something like thirteen hours,” he joked, smiling at you.

“Thirteen hours and I still feel like shit,” you replied with a chuckle.

“Well, you were in surgery for a majority of those hours.”

“Surgery?” you asked, little pieces of memory slowly knitting back together.

“Yeah, do you remember anything?” he asked, leaning forward.

“Not much, but I’m sure it’ll come back to me,” you said, your hand drifting over to rest on the top of your injured thigh.

“I’m gonna go get the doctor, I’m sure he’ll want to talk with you,” Chris said, gently covering your hand with his. It was warm, and he gave a gentle comforting squeeze. “Only if you’re up for it though, [Y/N]. I can pretend you’re still sleeping if you want?”

You looked at him, mouth twitching into a smile. “No, that’s okay. I should probably talk with the doctor, it’ll need to happen sooner or later.” He nodded, giving your hand another gentle squeeze before he stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Captain? Did you... stay with me the whole time I was asleep?” you asked sheepishly.

He nodded, kneeling down next to the bed to come down to your eye level. “I said I would protect you, didn’t I? I wasn’t gonna have you wake up alone.” He stood and started walking towards the door, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thank you, Captain,” you said, picking at the edge of the itchy tape keeping the IV in place. He glanced at you over his shoulder, giving you a soft smile.

“No need to thank me, but you’re welcome.”

You spoke with the doctor for nearly an hour, Chris sitting in the uncomfortable chair the entire time. A nurse had foolishly tried to get him to leave, and the Captain fixed him with a glare that could’ve melted steel. Needless to say, no one asked him to leave again.

You pieced together your memory, explaining to the doctor about your various injuries as best you could. The doctor talked for the rest of the time, explaining the various degrees of burns you received. First and second degree on your right upper arm and right thigh; third degree on your right shin and calf. They had taken skin from your other leg to try to repair the damage, and you were expected to be in the hospital for at least two weeks, and up to another four weeks after that for the graft to be healed fully. A massive concussion, innumerable bumps and bruises, and seven stitches on the cut above your eyebrow rounded out your series of injuries.

You were exhausted again by the time the doctor left your room, wanting nothing more than to sleep for another thirteen hours. After the doctor left, you glanced at Chris, who tried, and failed to stifle a huge yawn.

“You should get some sleep in an actual bed, Captain.”

“No, I’m fine, I’m going to stay-“

“Captain,” you interrupted, raising you uninjured eyebrow at him, “I’ll be okay. Please take care of yourself, go get a shower and rest. I guarantee I’ll still be here tomorrow.”

He looked at you, and you could tell he was dying to disagree. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you.... If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”

“Chris,” you said, enjoying the way his name felt on your tongue, “please, go. Me and my morphine drip will be just fine.”

He laughed, moving to grasp your hand in his again. He rubbed his thumb gently over your knuckles and you squeezed at his fingers. “I’ll be back in a couple hours,” he said, returning your squeeze. He studied your face for a long moment, chocolate brown eyes flitting over your features. He leaned in, placing a soft, barely there kiss on your temple, and you sighed, a small smile playing on your lips.

“I am... _so_ happy you’re all right,” he said, mouth next to your ear. A pleasant shiver ran down to your toes, at least the toes that weren’t still numb with local anesthetic, your eyes fluttering closed. He stood, hand still resting on yours.

“Goodnight, Captain.”

He looked at his watch, “Technically good afternoon, but thanks,” he replied, giving your fingers one final squeeze before he walked to the door, closing it gently behind him as he left.

 

* * *

 

Though you intended to wake up that same day, your body had other ideas, and you slept fully until the following morning, waking up with the sun. The first thing you noticed was that you were starving. The second was that Chris had somehow managed to fall asleep in that terrible chair once again. This time, though, he was leaning forward, his head was resting gently on the edge of your mattress on top of a folded arm. You opened your mouth to wake him up, but closed it in favor of looking at him.

It was so rare to see him completely relaxed; usually he was yelling at someone or being yelled at, his brows constantly furrowed, carrying all that stress in his shoulders, like the entire world was resting there. Seeing him asleep was a little treasure you wanted to squirrel away in your mind. His eyelashes were quite long, dark against his skin in the dim morning light streaming through the blinds in the room. Your eyes traced down his straight nose and moved onto his mouth, wanting to rub your thumb over his soft looking lips. His facial hair was longer than you’d ever seen it, but it suited him, dusting his jaw and cheeks. You lifted your arm, hovering your hand over him for a moment before gently placing it down on his head. You stroked his hair gently, fingertips skimming the top of his ear. You heard him make a tiny groaning noise before he shifted his head, eyes opening to look up at you.

“Good Morning, Captain,” you said softly, removing your hand. “Sorry, I wanted to wake you up a little more gently this time. You’ve got a bad habit of falling asleep in uncomfortable positions.”

He chuckled, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah, I can sleep anywhere,” he said, rolling his head from side to side, trying to work out the kinks. You heard a cracking noise, and Chris let out a nearly pornographic groan that shot straight between your legs. You swallowed hard, quickly dispersing the images that had popped into your head.

“I’m surprised the nurses let you stay here,” you commented, trying to be nonchalant, tugging on the sheets.

“Well, being the Captain of the BSAA does have some perks,” he replied. You gave him a suspicious look. “I may have also threatened someone to let me stay...”

You stifled a laugh, looking up at him. He grinned at you, eyes searching your face for a few moments. “You’ve gotta be hungry, right?”

You groaned, “Are you reading my mind? Ugh, I am _so_ hungry.”

“I’ll go get you some food, okay?”

“Ooh, pancakes if you can find them?” you asked, eyes wide.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said, leaning down to gently kiss the top of your head. You felt a flush creep onto your cheeks, but he didn’t seem to notice.

The Captain was being much more affectionate than usual, you thought after he had left the room. You always felt like Chris was your friend first, and your Captain second. You had always been more friendly to each other than what was probably appropriate considering your roles, but this felt _different_. Different from your normal sarcastic banter in the halls; different from sitting next to each other at a bar, shoulders bumping together every so often; different from your entire relationship up to this point. You always had a niggling little crush on Chris, from your earliest days at the BSAA, and all this was doing was feeding the flame.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize he had come back into the room. “Sorry, [Y/N], no pancakes,” he announced, pulling the chair back up to the edge of your bed.

“You’ve failed me, Cap,” you replied dramatically, fluttering your eyes closed.

“I’ll make it up to you once you’re out of here. I’ll make you all the pancakes you can eat,” he said, sitting down. He presented you with the literal fruits of his labor; a banana, an orange and a bowl of what you assumed was oatmeal.

“This is actually acceptable,” you commented, as he handed you a spoon. Chris went to work peeling the orange, the sweet smell of citrus doing wonders to cover the practically permanent sanitizer scent of the hospital room.

You ate ravenously, absolutely demolishing the oatmeal and fruit. “Thank you, Captain. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you said, licking the last bit of juice from the orange off of your fingers.

He didn’t answer right away, and you turned your head to look at him. He was looking at his hands, a solemn expression on his face. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he began, finally raising his eyes to look into yours. There was a faraway look in them, a look that was so very unlike him to have. “I should’ve been there. You mean a lot to me, and I let you down...”

“Captain, there was nothing you could’ve-“

He cut you off with a raised hand. “Please, let me apologize. I’m sorry, [Y/N], this is my fault.”

“This is not your fault, not at all,” you replied, reaching out to place your hand on his cheek. “You _found_ me. You saved my life, Chris. I would probably be dead if it wasn’t for you.” He leaned into your hand, and you gently rubbed your thumb up and down on his cheekbone. Tilting his head, he kissed your palm, a delightful shock of heat traveling down your arm from his lips.

He sat with you for a while longer, until he said he needed to go back to the BSAA for a couple hours to debrief, but that he would be back as soon as he could.

“Okay, but if it’s late, please just go home and get some sleep, Captain,” you replied, giving him a stern look.

He grinned, rolling his eyes. “Yes, _Mom_ ,” he said, clasping your hand in his. He kissed the back of it before taking his leave, your heart beating just a little faster than normal.

 

* * *

 

The next three weeks in the hospital were terribly boring. Captain Redfield couldn’t be there all the time, and with no one else to keep you company, the days dragged on. Chris went to your apartment and brought you some books, but even Harry Potter wasn’t enough to entertain you.

The nurses had at least gotten you some crutches so you could get out of the bed for a little each day. Chris was surprised when he came to visit you one afternoon, finding you sunning yourself on a bench in the courtyard. He had sat down next to you closely, draping his arm around you to “keep you warm,” he said. Keep you warm in 75 degree weather, _right_ , Captain....

Kissing your cheek was a commonplace occurrence now, and even though you hated when he had to leave, you were giddy over feeling his lips on your skin when he bid you goodbye. Plus, you always got the perfect view of his stunning ass as he walked away. It was selfish, but there was a part of you that almost didn’t want to leave the hospital; Chris had become such a fixture that you were dreading things going back to “normal” once you were due to leave.

You were playing a rousing game of solitaire when said Captain waltzed into your room, a giant smile on his face.

“What’s got you so happy?” you asked, placing the jack of hearts on top of the ten.

“Well, a certain person gets to leave the hospital today, and I’m here to take her home,” he said, sitting down next to the bed.

You smiled broadly at him, leaning back onto the pillows. “That’s today?” you said, running a hand through your hair. The more minor burns on your skin were fully healed, and the stitches on your forehead had come out almost two weeks ago, leaving only a thin red scar as evidence. He nodded, placing a hand on top of yours and squeezing gently.

The doctor came into the room shortly after, giving you the aftercare spiel, but you were too excited to put on something that wasn’t a backless hospital gown and finally get out of there that you barely paid attention. You dressed yourself carefully, making sure not to put pressure on your recently changed bandages. A nurse switched them out before allowing you to dress, but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to look at the graft yet. Pulling on a pair of soft, loose sweatpants, and a hoodie that Chris had brought from your apartment, you called out his name.

Chris walked into the room, giving you a smile. “You ready?”

“Almost, I just need help with my shoes,” you replied, wiggling your toes.

“I got it,” he said, kneeling down to slip your sneakers on, tying the laces. Helping you stand, he kept a firm grip on your waist as he handed you your crutches. “You sure you want to use those? I’d be glad to push you in a wheelchair.”

“No way. I’m already itching to walk on it again, and this is the closest I can get for now,” you said, sticking each crutch under your arms.

“I’m gonna have to watch you 24/7, aren’t I? Just to make sure you don’t push yourself too hard,” he commented, his hand still on your waist.

“Oh, you’d hate that. I am _very_ boring,” you replied sarcastically, smiling at him. He smiled back, releasing his hold on you once you were steady.

“You are one of the least boring people I know, trust me on that.”

The drive back to your apartment was uneventful, mostly silent except for when Chris would hum along to the song on the radio. He helped you up to your front door, unlocking it, and you crutched over to your sofa as fast as you could, gently sitting yourself down and letting out a big, dramatic sigh. You closed your eyes, pulling in a deep breath through your nose, happy that you didn’t smell bleach any longer.

“Glad to be home?” you heard Chris ask, feeling the cushion dip as he sat next to you. You cracked an eye open, looking over at him.

“You have no idea,” you replied, letting your eye close again.

“So,” he said, and you felt him get up. “Where are your pancake supplies?”

“Pancake supplies?” you repeated, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I said I’d make you all the pancakes you can eat when you left the hospital, remember?”

You smiled up at him. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I never go back on a promise,” he said crossing his arms.

Chris kept his word, making all you could eat and then some, both of you plopping down unceremoniously on the couch, completely stuffed.

You spent the rest of the night watching bad movies on Netflix, absentmindedly scooting ever closer to Chris until you could lay your head on his shoulder. He worked his arm around you, pulling you close and you felt like your heart was going to explode in your chest. This was so goddamn _domestic_ , and it felt so right. You felt your eyelids start to droop, and you rubbed at them, causing a chain reaction yawn that went through both of you.

“I guess I’m a little tired,” you said, stifling another yawn. “You’d think I’d slept enough in the past couple weeks.”

You stood, grabbing your crutches. “Do you need help?” Chris asked, still sitting.

“No, I think I’ve got it. But Chris,” you started, looking down at him. “Um, would you... mind staying here tonight? I don’t know if I’m...ready to be alone just yet....”

“Of course,” he said without pause. “I was planning on it, I’ve got some clothes in the car. Plus, this couch is pretty comfortable.” He swung his legs up onto the sofa, putting his hands behind his head.

You smiled, starting to crutch down the hall to the bedroom. “There’s extra pillows and blankets in the closet here,” you called out, closing your door behind you. Stripping off your clothes, you found a comfortable old t-shirt and leggings to wear to bed. You tentatively unraveled the bandages on your leg, per the doctor’s instructions, finally looking at your new skin. It wasn’t pretty; the edges of the graft still angry-red and bruised, but the skin had knitted itself back together. You couldn’t help but think about how you’d never be able to wear anything but pants again, and you knew you were being ridiculous - you could have easily lost your leg, but you were stupidly focused on how it looked. Pulling the leggings on, you banished your selfish thoughts and crawled into bed.


	2. Chapter 2

You were back in the hallway, sweaty back against the wall, leg burned and mangled. Out of ammo. Out of time. They were coming, and your radio only had static to comfort you.

You were trying to yell, screaming as loud as you could, but no sound came out. Angry tears slid down your face as you gripped your pistol, blindly firing into the horde. But this time no one was here to save you. No one was coming. Only the dead. They shambled closer and closer. Close enough for you to smell the blood and rotting flesh on them. Then their hands were on you, fingernails digging into your flesh, followed by teeth, ripping, tearing at your skin.

You screamed, a roar bursting out of your chest, and you woke with a start, fingers scrabbling to hold onto the thing in front of you. It was talking to you in a soft voice, hands stroking soothingly over your hair. You finally managed to focus on brown eyes, opened wide with alarm.

“Chris?” you asked, voice hoarse and shaky.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s me, [Y/N]. I’m here. I’m right here, okay?” he asked, still stroking your sweat damp hair, trying to help you stop shaking. “It was just a dream, just a nightmare. You’re okay. I’m here...I’ll keep you safe.”

Finally you sucked a deep, wheezing breath into your lungs, letting it out slowly, feeling your racing heartbeat start to decrease. Chris grabbed your hand, pressing it to his chest and covering it with his.

“You can feel my heartbeat, right? Just focus on that, okay?” he said, and you nodded, still breathing rapidly. You tried to focus on his heart beating, a slow and steady thump, counting the beats, trying to match your own to his. He raised his other hand to your face, wiping away your tears, before leaning down to kiss your forehead. He stood and walked to the other side of your bed, pulling back the covers and climbing in. He scooted next to you and held out his arms. “Come here,” he said, giving you a soft smile.

You looked at him for a moment before shifting to lay your head on his chest, pressing your body against his. He wrapped his arms around you, big and warm and safe, and you let out a relieved sigh. “Try to sleep,” he said, twirling a lock of your hair around his fingers. “I’ll stay with you. Scare any other nightmares away.”

You tilted your head to look up at him. He smiled at you again, squeezing his arms around you gently. You wanted to cry again, not quite believing how kind Chris was, but you managed to keep them at bay, snuggling against him instead.

You could hear his heart beating next to your ear, and you focused on it again, it’s regular rhythm lulling you back to sleep.

  
You woke up far sooner than you had wanted to, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. _No more nightmares, at least,_ you thought, rubbing your eyes. You stretched your arms up over your head, groaning loudly as you soothed your sore muscles. You rolled onto your side and nearly choked on your spit. Chris Redfield was in your bed, asleep. Your groan didn’t seem to have disturbed him, his breathing still steady and eyes still closed. You remained frozen for a moment, before the puzzle put itself together and you remembered how he had comforted you the previous night. He must’ve fallen asleep right after you did, the lure of a comfortable mattress too much to resist.

Carefully you raised a hand, hovering it over his face before you wagged it back and forth. Chris didn’t move and you let out a breath. You tapped his shoulder gently with your index finger - still no movement. You poked a little harder, watching his face intently; he still didn’t move, breathing just as slow and steady as before. You prodded him once more for posterity, even whispering his name, but he was still.

“Oh, Captain...” you whispered, studying his face, “I wish I had the courage to say this to you when you’re awake.” You wanted to touch him, to cuddle up against him as you had the night before, feeling those arms of his wrap around you, gently pressing your body to his. You wanted to kiss him on his beautiful mouth, pouring yourself into it, making him understand how much you cared for him. “I’m...falling in love with you. I thought I could make it go away, but I just can’t. Sometimes, you’re all I think about. And spending this time with you has made me realize that I don’t ever want to let you go.” You paused, taking a risk and running the back of your hand down his cheek. His stubble was scratchy under your fingers, and you wondered what it might feel like against your neck as he lavished it with kisses. “But I know I can’t have you, so I’m just gonna look at you for a little while longer.”

Your eyes raked over his features, memorizing every freckle, every pale scar, the shape of his lips, how long his eyelashes were and how he furrowed his brow a little while he slept. A smile played on your lips as you looked at him for a moment longer, before you reluctantly rolled out of bed, allowing your Captain to get some much needed rest.

You were already sitting at the kitchen island, reading a shitty celebrity gossip site on your phone when Chris came out of your bedroom, about an hour later.

“Good Morning,” he said, walking over to the sink to fill a glass with water.

“Morning,” you replied over your mug of tea, blowing on its surface before taking a sip. You heard him pad back over to you after a moment, and he grabbed the mug out of your hands, setting it gently on the table top. He turned the stool you were sitting at so that you were facing him, and you gave him a confused look. He gently placed one hand on the side of your neck, the other on the counter behind you, before he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You made a startled noise, but Chris was undeterred, continuing to kiss you, angling your head to coax you into fitting your lips with his perfectly. Your face was on fire, feeling as if all the blood in your body was rushing to your cheeks. You placed your hands on his sides, caressing up and down over the peaks and valleys of his muscles, finally getting your brain to send a signal to your lips to start moving them against his. He kissed you for an eternity, his tongue eventually sliding into your mouth, dancing against yours. You tasted toothpaste mixing with the sugar from your tea, tingly and sweet. Needing to breathe, you pulled back from him just a centimeter, sucking in a ragged breath.

“I guess I’m a little ahead of the curve, because I’m already in love with you,” he said softly against your mouth with a chuckle, pressing his lips to yours once again.

You broke away from him after you processed what he said. “You heard me?”

He nodded, grinning. “You’re pretty loud even when you’re trying to be quiet.”

“Oh _no_ , I am so embarrassed,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“Don’t be, I’m glad I heard you,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face. “And if you want me, I’m yours. You can have all of me.” He leaned in to place gentle kisses along your jaw, tilting your head to have uninterrupted access to your neck. He kissed down it, nipping at the soft skin at its base, and you stifled a moan, biting your lip. The scratch of his facial hair on your heated skin was divine, and you felt him place his hands on your hips, fingers pushing up the hem of your shirt to touch your bare skin. You couldn’t stifle the next moan that erupted from your throat, and you gripped onto his shoulders hard. You felt him smile against your skin, moving his hands up even further, your back arching into his touch.

“Chris...” you whimpered, capturing his lips with yours again, groaning into his mouth as his fingers left trails of fire on your back. You wanted to touch him as well, dragging your hands down his chest, grabbing handfuls of his shirt, pulling it up to finally make contact with his skin. He was so warm, like your own personal space heater, and you never wanted to let go. Running your fingers delicately over his hip bones, he sucked in a breath, dragging his nails over your lower back. You made a pathetic noise in the back of your throat, feeling each nail send a shock right to your center. “Chris, I think you need to take me to my bedroom right now,” you said, voiced laced with lust.

He didn’t respond, only dipped his hands underneath your rear, gently picking you up and pressing your body against his. You wrapped your good leg around him, feeling his hand support your healing one. You busied your mouth at his neck as he made for your bedroom, licking a long line from his shoulder to his jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin by his ear, feeling him shiver. “I’m gonna drop you if you keep doing that,” he said with a soft laugh and you grinned into his skin, placing a gentle kiss where you had bit. You scratched at his scalp, enjoying the feeling of his short hair brushing against your fingertips.

Entering your room, he placed you ever so gently down on the edge of your bed, capturing your lips with his again. You gripped onto his neck, kissing him hungrily, wetness spreading between your thighs. He took a step back, pulling his shirt off over his head, and your eyes widened, taking in all of that chest. You reached for him, ghosting your hands over his soft skin. His chest and abdomen were littered with pale scars, and you wanted to trace over them all. Chris had other plans though, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt and slowly, gently pulling it up and over your head. He immediately pressed his face between your chest, kissing your sternum, his hands caressing over the soft pillows of your breasts, circling his thumbs over your nipples. They hardened under his touch, and he moved his lips to capture one in between them. You moaned softly, wrapping your arms tightly around him as he lavished your body with attention.

He pushed gently on your shoulders, laying you down on your back so he could divest you of your leggings. Not wasting any time, he pulled them down along with your underwear, his eyes glued to your sex, and you saw him swallow hard, eyes flicking back up to catch yours. He kept pulling your clothing down until he got to your knees, noticing you tense.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

You looked at him for a moment before answering. “...I don’t want you to see it,” you said sheepishly, gesturing towards your right leg. He grimaced, leaning over you, and boxing your head in between his hands, making sure you couldn’t look away.

“ _You_ are beautiful,” he replied, giving you a kiss. “I love every part of you.” Another kiss. “Every... last... bit....” Two short pecks to punctuate his words, followed by a long, languid, toe-curler to finish it off. “The scars don’t change you, [Y/N]. I love you exactly as you are.”

You felt hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but Chris placed another gentle kiss on your lips, banishing them away. He slid back down your body, kissing and caressing as he went, finally pulling your pants all the way off and dropping them on the floor. He let out a loud wolf whistle and you flushed, hiding your smile behind a hand. He waited until you looked back at him to hurriedly push down his own pajama pants, standing naked and proud in front of you. You bit your bottom lip, eyes roving greedily over his skin. He lifted your legs gently, swinging them up and onto the bed, quickly straddling you to press a heated kiss to your lips. You felt his cock rub against your sex, and you groaned into his mouth, spurring him on, feeling his tongue press hard against yours. He shifted to lay on his side next to you, tracing a hand over your navel, continuing south until he dipped in between your wet lips, coating his fingers with your slick.

He busied his mouth at your neck, stroking over your clit with practiced ease, making you moan and gasp with each touch. He slid his middle finger easily inside, your cunt clenching around it. He thrusted it languidly in and out, sucking a bruise onto your collarbone before he added a second finger. You gripped at his face, pulling his mouth to yours, kissing him between ragged breaths. He spread you open on his fingers, thumb occasionally ghosting over your pearl, teasing you.

“Chris, _please_ ,” you begged, staring into his dark brown eyes. “I want you.”

He smiled, moving again to situate himself between your legs. The anticipation was killing you, eyes drifting down to his hard, thick cock. Chris wrapped his hand around himself, stroking a few times, spreading you slick over his dick; his eyes slid shut, a little crimson clouding his cheeks. He breathed out your name, leaning down to cover your chest with his, and you felt the tip of him press insistently against your entrance. Lifting your hips just a bit, he pushed in, sliding home in one slow thrust. You stretched beautifully around him, your lips parting and eyes fluttering shut.

You wrapped your arms around him, caressing and scratching over his back, already panting even though he hadn’t started moving yet. He moved his mouth to your ear, kissing up your jaw as he went. “I’m gonna move, okay?”

“ _Yes,_ ” you breathed, gripping tightly to his shoulders. He started fucking your gently, slow and steady, making your nerve endings smolder, heat brewing in your belly.

“Fuck,” Chris said in a low voice, changing his angle a bit, thrusting even deeper inside of you. “You feel so fucking good.”

You smiled at him, trying to recall the last time you heard him curse. A snap of Chris’s hips and you lost the ability to think about anything but the feel of his cock dragging against your walls, filling you up. He kissed you with insistent lips, plunging his tongue in your mouth, claiming you completely as his. He wasn’t even finished fucking you, and you already wanted more. Not just more sex, but more _everything_. Wanted to wake up next to him, snuggling against his warm body, tracing your fingers over every muscle. Wanted to cook dinner together, eating in front of the tv or standing in the kitchen, so hungry you weren’t even able to make it to the table. Wanted to hear him say “I love you” over and over again, and saying it back to him.

He ran a hand down your side, coaxing you to wrap your leg around him. You dug your heel into his lower back, clinging to him desperately. You slid your hand down your abdomen, fingertips gently touching your bundle of nerves, a lusty moan escaping your lips. You wanted to come around him, muscles clenching around his cock, driving him to his own release. You stroked your clit rapidly, little moans escaping with each breath, and you felt Chris pick up his pace, kissing and sucking at your neck. He wove a hand into your hair, tugging gently. You made a pathetic noise, feeling your climax looming. A few more hard strokes to your pearl and your back arched, Chris bit at the supple skin of your neck, and your orgasm washed over you, bright white creeping in at the edges of your vision. Your cunt fluttered around his cock, and he gasped, fucking you in earnest through your peak.

Moans and gasps spilled from your lips, a mix of curses and his name. The delicious friction where your bodies connected only increased as Chris lifted your hips, thrusting deeply inside you, his own orgasm building. You drug your nails up his back, willing him to come, wanting to feel his release inside you. He looked at you, pupils blown out with lust and you pressed your lips to his, fitting his bottom lip between your teeth and gently biting down, soothing over the bite with your tongue.

He grabbed your cheeks roughly, pressing a needy kiss to your mouth and you felt him thrust a few more times before stilling with a low, longing moan, warm come coating your insides. He nearly collapsed on top of you, propped up only on shaky forearms and you grinned at him, kissing his forehead.

“I love you, Chris,” you said, capturing his lips. He rolled onto his back, gently pulling you on top of him, rubbing his hands soothingly over your back. His cock freed itself from your slippery cunt and you made a small displeased noise, pressing your cheek against his chest.

“I love you, [Y/N],” he replied, gently stroking your hair. You laid with him like that for a long while, not needing to say anything, just enjoying each other’s company. Gentle fingers traced over every part of your body they could reach, and you felt a delightful shiver run down your spine. You kissed Chris’s cheek, finally moving off of him to stretch your arms over your head.

“I think I’d like to get a shower,” you commented, looking at him. “Care to join me?”

He grinned, kissing you sweetly, caressing a hand over your breast. “Don’t have to ask me twice,” he said, standing. Scooting to the edge of the bed, Chris picked you up bridal-style, carrying you towards the bathroom.

“I am so glad you’ve got all these muscles,” you mused, draping your arms around his neck. You kissed below his ear, gently biting at his earlobe and he sucked in a breath, releasing a little pleasured noise. You knew that you’d be getting a little more dirty in the shower before getting clean.

 

* * *

 

_Some months later..._

 

You turned your head to watch the helicopter take off, having dropped you and your team just outside the city limits. You checked your weapons, making sure everything was accessible and in the correct spot, tightening the strap on your helmet.

Your Captain strode over to you, squeezing your shoulder before leaning in to give you a deep kiss. You vaguely heard whoops and whistles from your comrades and you elegantly raised a gloved middle finger in their direction.

You broke away from him, trying to hide a smile. “Captain, _please_ , not in front of the men,” you chided, giving him a peck on his cheek.

“You realize they’re all aware that we’re together, right?” he said, grabbing your hand.

“Yes, but I’d prefer if they didn’t make kissing noises every time I walk past them.”

He laughed, pulling your glove off of your left hand, revealing a sparkling diamond set in a simple silver band on your ring finger. “Imagine all the noises they’ll make when they see this,” he said, raising your hand to his lips, kissing it gently. You pulled it away, quickly replacing your glove.

“Chris,” you warned, trying to give him a serious look. Those soft brown eyes of his didn’t let you though, and you quickly melted, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You ready?” he asked.

You nodded, smiling. “Let’s go kill some things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> Apologies if any of the medical stuff is not exactly correct, I am not a doctor and I placed my trust in google. :)
> 
> Please feel free to leave me a comment, I love getting feedback, especially about big teddy bear Chris!
> 
>  
> 
> Find me on:
> 
> tumblr: copper-wasp.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @copper_wasp_
> 
> I will be glad to follow you back!!


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